The day went by. Different than before, I went outside today. I walked to a coffeeshop and brought along the book and I watched life happen around me. It was beautiful. Things were different today, I looked up in the mirror about the coffeehouse sofa, my face done up, my hair brushed, and a dress covering the frightful sight of an unloved body. I called my mother today, she said she’s come by to see me multiple times, I don’t recall, but I don’t tell her than. I come home while my boyfriend is at a meeting. I think of all the good things that have filled my day. I think of all the hurt that filled the past months.
I don’t remember smashing the mirror. But I do remember the feeling of the glass against the soft flesh of my wrist.